


three, two, one

by damthosefandoms



Series: Batfam PJO AU [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crossover, demigod!jason au, guys i wonder who the major character death is hmmmmmmmm, hey but this follows canon ok, i'm very proud of this you guys, she's there for half a second when she kidnaps jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damthosefandoms/pseuds/damthosefandoms
Summary: Demigods don't live very long lives. Most die before they reach adulthood. However, most demigods aren't murdered by clowns in warehouses in Ethiopia because they trusted the wrong person. Most demigods also don't come back from the dead.Jason Todd is not like most demigods.(Maybe he IS like most Robins, but at least in that case he's the one who set the precedent.)
Series: Batfam PJO AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/818019
Comments: 22
Kudos: 125





	three, two, one

**Author's Note:**

> me: man i'm out of ideas to write for the demigod jason au :(  
> me, two weeks later: oh wait jason died that's fun  
> me, three days later: ok but what if all that blood-bending stuff from the tartarus dark percy scene tm but with jason when he's a braindead zombie boy just crawled out of his grave???? inch resting  
> me, texting my best friend last night: DESTINY I HAVE 2000 WORDS FOR YOU TO EDIT
> 
> anyways this is angsty but was fun so here. i have ideas for more of this, but i dont know if i'll ever write them, so don't yell @ me okay love you guys ENJOY

_ Ten seconds. _

This is it.

Jason prays to his father, to the other gods, to anyone who might be listening. He prays that Hades will go easy on him when he gets down there. That the Judges will see the good things he’s done as Robin and maybe that will make up for all the bad things he’s done. That he’ll get lucky and end up in Asphodel. He knows that getting into Elysium is a long shot anyway. Jason doesn’t deserve that. He prays that someone—his father, Bruce, Dick, Superman, someone,  _ anyone _ —will come save him. 

But Jason also remembers the dream he had the night he was claimed. He never forgot it. The Fates told him that this would happen; showed him how. They told him he was going to burn out. And he knows full well that even if, by some miracle, someone  _ is _ coming…

_ Nine seconds.  _

If anyone is coming now, Jason’s pretty damn sure they won’t make it here in time.

(Unless it’s a speedster, maybe, but Jason has spent enough time with Wally West to know that those guys are incapable of getting  _ anywhere _ on time.)

Jason isn’t surprised by what’s happening, though he supposes any sane person should be. But Jason knew as a kid that odds were he wouldn’t live very long—that was just how life was back in Crime Alley. He figured he’d probably die of pneumonia, or malnourishment, or hypothermia, or something along those lines. That was how most kids like him tended to go. Then he got chased down by a monster and met Thalia Grace. At Camp, he found out that most demigods usually don’t make it to twenty because of monster attacks or quests or whatever other  _ bullshit _ the gods come up with to ruin their childrens’ lives even further. Considering that Jason is a son of Poseidon—a Big Three kid—naturally his lifespan would be even shorter. Then throw in the fact that when he’s  _ not _ at camp he spends his nights running around Gotham dressed as a glorified traffic light and punching out psychopaths and other assorted criminals? 

None of this is surprising. At all.

And honestly, shouldn't he be grateful? He’s getting off easy—at least now the Great Prophecy won’t be his. He doesn’t have to worry about his soul getting reaped by some cursed blade on his sixteenth birthday if he dies four months too early.

_ Nine seconds. _

He looks across the room, and he can see Sheila— _ his mother, gods, he  _ **_finally_ ** _ found her and for fucking  _ what?  _ All that excitement, the potential of finding the woman who gave birth to him, someone who was his  _ **_actual, biological family_ ** ,  _ and she  _ **_immediately_ ** _ betrayed his trust and handed him over to the  _ **_Clown_ ** _ of all people— _ she’s still trying to open the door. Jason already  _ tried  _ that. She  _ watched  _ him struggle to drag himself over to it. It’s locked. Why does she even bother? It’s too late for her. It’s too late for  _ both _ of them.

He can barely breathe, so talking is a non-starter, but there’s one question gnawing at him—something he  _ needs _ to know the answer to. Something he’s needed to ask since the day he found out that Catherine was his step-mother. Since the day he found out Willis wasn’t actually his father. Since the day he got to Camp Half-Blood.

Jason’s voice is raspy, and he isn’t even sure if it’s actually working or not. His head is on fire and he feels like he’s underwater all at the same time. (And  _ gods, _ does he wish he  _ was _ underwater. At least then he’d be  _ healing. _ ) But he takes a deep breath ( _ the single most painful breath he’s ever taken),  _ clears his throat, and forces the sound out. 

“Did… did you know… about my dad…? Who…what he…?”

The question catches Sheila off-guard. She sits down on the floor across from him, her head in her hands. Jason has always been good at reading people, but right now,  _ anyone _ could see that she’s filled with all kinds of regret.

_Eight_ _seconds._

“Yes. I did.”  
“Why did… why’d you…give me…to…”  
“Your father warned me you’d be powerful. He told me your life would be dangerous. More than most. He told me the Fates had a plan for you, a life with such tragedy that even _he_ couldn’t prevent. I was scared I’d lose you, and I didn’t want to have to watch that happen. I thought maybe if I gave you to Willis—if I claimed you were _his_ son instead, and removed myself from the picture completely—it would change things. I thought if you grew up with me, something horrible might happen to you, so I tried to prevent it. But all I did was make things worse. If I hadn’t given you away, you wouldn’t have suffered so badly. I was so selfish, Jason. I didn’t want to have to deal with the heartbreak of losing a child. I didn’t want to deal with a child who was that dangerous. I didn’t want to deal with it. With _you_.”

_ Seven seconds. _

“…But…you…now…”  
“I was so selfish. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I’m so _sorry_ , Jason.”  
“…Mom…”

_ Six seconds. _

She’s quiet, now. Jason’s glad. Trying to talk is taking its toll on his punctured lung, and Jason’s stuck in a coughing fit. Blood drips from his lips, and he’s not sure if he’s coughing it up, if it’s from his split lip, or if it’s from the thousand other injuries the clown gave him.

If—through some crazy miracle—Jason manages to make it out of this warehouse alive, he’s going to kill that son of a bitch, Batman’s rules be damned. The clown is going six feet under, and Jason’s going to make sure of it.

_ Five seconds. _

His mind wanders. He thinks of his friends back at Camp Half-Blood. Will anyone tell them? He hopes none of them have dreams about this. Hopes they don’t try to get a quest to the underworld to bring him back to life.

(Maybe he hopes a  _ little bit _ for that.)

Roy will find out first. Maybe it’ll be from a nightmare—demigod dreams are the  _ worst _ , after all—or maybe he’ll find out from Bruce, or Oliver, or Dinah, or maybe even  _ Dick _ . He’ll have to tell everyone at Camp. Roy’s going to have to deliver the bad news. 

(Maybe it’ll come with  _ some  _ good news. At least Chiron won’t have to worry about the Prophecy anymore for a long,  _ long _ time. After all, there are no more Big Three kids left out there. If there were, Grover would have found them by now.)

This is going to absolutely  _ destroy _ Annabeth. She’s only twelve, and she’s already lost so many people who were important to her. Jason knows how much love that little girl has for her found family at Camp. He just  _ knows  _ this will rip her apart. 

Not to mention Grover. His confidence is going to be crushed when he gets word of this. First Thalia, now Jason. He finds the two most powerful (and most dangerous) demigods to exist since the 1940s, and they both get themselves killed. None of it is Grover’s fault, but he was their Protector. Jason knows Grover well enough to know he’ll blame himself for the rest of his life, even though there’s no possible way Grover could have saved  _ Robin _ from certain doom.

Then there’s Luke. Luke, who has so little faith in  _ anything _ anymore, that he’ll do  _ anything _ to right the wrongs their godly parents keep on making. Luke, who keeps on listening to the voice in his head, telling him that it’s not  _ worth  _ helping his father. If the gods don’t save Jason now, this will  _ definitely  _ push Luke over the edge—the edge he’s only hanging on to by a thread.

(Jason never told anyone, but he’s pretty damn sure Luke was the one who stole Zeus’ master bolt. Now he wishes he  _ had  _ told someone. The way things are looking, Luke’s already made a deal with the devil, and now Jason won’t be there to stop him from gambling away his soul altogether.)

And his other friends: Clarisse, Chris, and Silena…he knows that they're losing hope in the world around them too, even if it’s not as bad as it is with Luke. He knows there’s a war brewing in the Heavens right now. He hopes it won’t happen, but he has a feeling they’re going to be picking sides very,  _ very _ soon.

_ Four seconds. _

Jason briefly wonders which side  _ he _ would have picked. For a second, he thinks about everything he’s learned and experienced since becoming Robin, and he thinks he knows. Then, as if his life is flashing before his eyes—and considering his current predicament, it probably is—he remembers growing up in Crime Alley. He sees Thalia, dying on Half-Blood Hill. He watches the number change on the timer, and he realizes that he knows  _ exactly _ which side he would pick.

_ Three. _

No one is coming. His prayers have been ignored. If the gods can hear him, they clearly don’t give a damn about poor little Jason Todd. Judging by the way Jason’s life has gone so far, it’s pretty obvious that they never  _ did _ . 

The only person who ever  _ actually _ seemed to  _ truly _ care was Bruce. 

_ Two. _

He’s going to miss his family. Everyone at Camp is his family, yeah, but right now Jason means Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbara. The people who showed him what a family truly is. He had a father and a grandfather and an older brother and an older not-exactly-a-sister and all the books he could ever want to read and he didn’t have to worry about money or danger and he was _Robin_ and he was _happy_ , _so truly goddamn fucking_ ** _happy_** when he was with them.

_ One. _

Jason closes his eyes, and accepts his fate. He hopes they’ll forgive him for getting himself killed. He hopes they’ll avenge him. He hopes that they won’t forget him. He hopes they’ll be okay without him. He hopes they’ll miss him.

_ Zero. _

He vaguely hears the engine of a truck shutting off, a car door slamming and a familiar voice screaming his name, and then—

The bomb goes off.

* * *

Six months later, Jason Todd opens his eyes. He is  _ not  _ in his Robin suit. He is  _ not _ in his bed at the manor, or the medbay in the Batcave, or at Leslie’s clinic. He is  _ not  _ in his cabin at Camp Half-Blood. He is  _ not _ in a warehouse, being blown to bits by a bomb, exhaling his final breath as his lungs fill with smoke and all he can think about is how much he’s going to miss—

_ “BATMAAAN!”  _

He’s screaming. His fists are pounding against the roof above him.

_“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, come_ **_on_** …” 

Why doesn’t he have his utility belt? First thing Batman taught him: never leave home without it.

_ “Something—gotta have—something…”  _

Nothing. Of  _ course _ there’s nothing. Why would there be? There’s no point in giving a  _ corpse _ the tools necessary to escape being buried alive. 

_ “Calm… calm down… not enough air… calm…” _

He rips the buckle off his belt.

_ “Gotta… gotta dig… dig… dig your way out…”  _

It’s slow, painful,  _ terrifying _ work, but when he finally reaches out into the world, the rain feels so, so good on his skin. For some reason, the water seems to dull the pain, if just a bit. He crawls out from the dirt and pushes himself to his feet. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know  _ anything _ . He follows his instincts, because it’s the only thing he can do. He wanders out of the graveyard, and heads toward the ocean. For some reason, he  _ knows _ it’ll help him. He can’t explain it.

The rain pours down, and when he’s about twelve miles away, he’s almost hit by a car. The drivers pull over and call the paramedics at the sight of him, but when they arrive, the first responders are shocked to find the subject of their call with two recently dead bodies; both appearing to be victims of a stroke. 

(Jason doesn't realize it at the time, but he’d just unlocked a new power he’d never had before. Later, Jason will figure it out again and make some sense of it. The human body is made up of about 60% water. Strokes happen when blood and oxygen stops flowing into your brain—it doesn’t take a genius to realize what had happened that night. Years later, he’s talking to his half-brother Percy about Tartarus, and Jason starts to understand exactly why the Big Three made a pact to stop having kids. They really  _ are _ too powerful. Too dangerous. It’s not safe for them to lose control.)

The doctors and cops are lost when it comes to the case. The kid doesn’t know who he is, why he looked like he was buried alive, or what hurt him so badly. At least the doctors in the hospital don’t  _ think _ he does. He won’t—can’t?—talk. Not much. They gave him a glass of water, and the kid’s head seemed to magically clear up just a bit—long enough for him to answer a few questions. They ask his name, and he doesn’t answer. They ask if he has any family, and he whispers in a raspy voice (as if he hasn’t spoken in months), “Dad. Bruce.”

He doesn’t say much after that, and he loses consciousness about twenty minutes later. 

There’s no one they can find by the name of “Bruce” who has any reports of missing family members. The boy’s fingerprints don’t have a match in any database ( _thanks, Batman_ ) that the cops can find. Whoever he is, wherever he came from, the boy is a ghost. Not that it matters; Jason falls into a coma a few hours after reaching the hospital. Almost a year later he wakes up and escapes. 

But his condition has worsened. He doesn’t think about what he’s doing, he just  _ does  _ it; there’s no thought process anymore. He is, for all intents and purposes, totally brain-dead. He runs off instinct, and it’s the only thing keeping him alive. He ends up back on the streets of Gotham, right back in Crime Alley where everything started. 

He doesn’t know his own name. He doesn’t know who or what he is, and he doesn’t care. If people try to come near him, he fights. If they try to hurt him, he fights  _ dirty _ . If they try to  _ kill _ him…

If they try to kill him, they drop dead. All of the blood flowing into their brain just  _ stops _ . There’s no reason for it, not that any normal person can see. But the body count rises. The boy doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He doesn’t know  _ anything _ . He’s an empty shell. He might not even have a soul. It’d be fitting, really, if he doesn't have one, because he’s quickly becoming a serial killer, and he’s only (maybe?) sixteen years old.

(The first time someone drops dead when the boy is in Crime Alley is when he overhears someone talking about him on the phone. They’re calling the cops, trying to report that he’d stolen from their store, and they’re saying he looks about sixteen years old. For some reason, that terrifies him, and he doesn’t know why. He’s not supposed to be sixteen. If he’s sixteen, that’s  _ bad _ . That’s  _ very _ bad. That’s  _ dangerous _ . He doesn’t know why. Suddenly he feels a familiar pull in his gut, but it’s not… it’s not how he thinks it’s  _ supposed _ to feel. It feels like something breaks inside him. The next thing he knows, his nose is bleeding and the person calling the cops is laying on the ground dead. The boy  _ runs _ .)

A couple months later, something happens.

He’s surrounded by people trying to hurt him. They try to grab him, and one tries to stick a needle into him; the boy’s eyes widen in fear when he sees it, and the liquid inside it starts to bubble. The glass shatters, explodes everywhere. He doesn’t know how he did that. He’s been relying on his muscle memory and instinct to fight back up until now, but then something snaps inside him. He feels something in his core breaking again. Then there’s that now-familiar tug in his gut again, and they all fall to the ground, dead. But then there’s a sound. Footsteps. 

A woman walks up to him, casually stepping over the bodies of her own men (how did he know they were  _ her  _ men?) as if their deaths didn’t even phase her. He feels like he should recognize her. She says she’s a friend of his father’s, and she’s come to take him away to help him. The boy doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know why she doesn’t drop dead too; why he isn’t  _ killing  _ her. He doesn’t know why he doesn't want to hurt her immediately, just like with everyone else. She tells him she’s going to help him, fix him, bring him home. He doesn’t know why he trusts her, but he goes with her. She says she’s going to help him get back to the way he was before.

It would be nice if he knew what “before” _ meant _ .

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU COMMENT I'LL TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU
> 
> If you guys get confused on when everything takes place—and I have too, so it’s alright—I made a timeline for the AU, and there’s gonna be a google doc linked at the end of each fic (right here in the End Notes) from now on that’ll specify exactly when each fic takes place, along with some other details I might not have included in the fics, and also it shows when the PJO books happen relative to the AU. It’s very helpful, so feel free to check it out! I’ll be adding stuff from time to time/after I post new fics, so yeah. It’s helpful.
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RIksZZsTP2Xt0YaMG8F0hlMXOi7SMLNpx2O8Onl2QnY/edit?usp=sharing


End file.
